


Brain Fog

by EmeraldPhoenix1221



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldPhoenix1221/pseuds/EmeraldPhoenix1221
Summary: After traveling across the Silver Marches to find information about a mysterious illness that has plagued her since her early teenage years, Hannah von Thorn tracks down one last lead in the southern Glimmerwood.
Kudos: 1
Collections: Discord Community Archive





	Brain Fog

“Aeon will be right with you. He must finish this ritual,” the apprentice said.

Hannah von Thorn sighed deeply, keeping her eyes closed, then nodded. Four months, hundreds of miles, and a half dozen magical experts hadn’t been enough to diagnose what was wrong with her. She’d been around the entirety of The Silver Marches, crossed paths with far too many shady characters, even gone as far west as Hopefast, and had now chased down one final lead at The Mouth of Song in The Glimmerwood. Aeon was purported to be the wisest druid north of the Rauvin.

If he couldn’t help her, no one could.

Hannah twirled her blonde hair around her finger absentmindedly, her eyes darting around the grove. It was a beautiful place, really. The evergreen flora gave it a rustic feel, and the smell of pine always reminded her of her family’s home in Silverymoon. A light snow had begun to fall, dusting everything - Hannah included - with a soft white. She let out a breath and watched the vapor float away; she was getting quite bored. By the time Aeon’s apprentice called her forward, she had drawn a number of amateurish pictures of animals in the snow with a stick.

Hannah followed the man down a small path leading out of the grove, leading to an altar where Aeon stood, his head tilted to the canopy and hands outstretched to his sides. She and her guide stopped a few feet away, when the old druid turned around and, to her surprise, sat down on the forest floor, and motioned for her to do the same.

She walked forward and cleared a small patch of ground with her boot, then sat down cross-legged in front of Aeon.

“Now. What seems to be the problem, child?”

Hannah took in a deep breath, but let it out without saying anything. She gestured to her head. “It’s… something in my head.”

“Mindbane?” The druid asked.

Hannah shook her head. “More than that.”

“Demonic possession…?”

“No, it’s… I can’t quite explain it.” She gave a short sigh. “It comes and goes. There’s periods where I’m better - better, but never fine - but then others when I get these bouts of intense grief or rage. I can’t think straight. I find it hard to concentrate sometimes, like there’s a… fog over my brain. Weeks pass by like days. I sleep all day. I don’t eat, or if I do, it’s only a little bit. Then there’s the thoughts… They’re mine, just not quite my own; usually negative. Sometimes outright hostile.”

Aeon nodded, evidently deep in thought. After some time, he reached out and crushed a root Hannah couldn’t recognize in his right hand and leaned toward her. He placed his first two fingers on her temples. “Try to relax.”

Hannah did her best. She steadied her breathing, closed her eyes, and tried not to focus on the odd sensation of having her mind checked for magical anomalies. It was an odd sensation, to be sure - but one she’d gotten used to over the last few months. 

Without warning, though, the druid began utilizing another form of magic entirely. It felt like he was reading her thoughts, but he… wasn’t. He was almost examining the contours and shapes of her psyche.

He let out a mystified scoff. “I can feel the scars on your consciousness. On your soul. But there is no trace of magic - of _any_ external trauma. It’s… it’s as if your mind did this to itself. But I can find no ‘why,’ either. Or even a ‘how.’”

He took his fingers away and looked her in the eyes.

“I do not think there is anything I can do.”

Hannah’s heart dropped like a stone, taking her entire body with it. She all but deflated, her shoulders sagging and eyes darting to the ground. The look of defeat on her face must have been pronounced, because Aeon furrowed his brow in concern - and, she supposed, thought. “There may be something that can help.”

He got up and walked into his tent behind the altar. A few minutes, several expletives, and a crash later, Aeon reemerged with a glass bottle one-quarter filled with a dark blue liquid. He handed it to Hannah, who had since gotten up from the ground. “Drink this. It will taste quite bad, but you must drink it all.”

Hannah uncorked the bottle, and caught a whiff of the stuff. She involuntarily crinkled her nose and recoiled, then shot Aeon a desperate look. He only made a motion to ‘get on with it.’ She sighed, held her breath, and downed the bottle.

It wasn’t quite as bad as other things she’d drank, but it wasn’t something she’d like to repeat doing. She swallowed again, trying and failing to get the taste out of her mouth. “What was that?” she asked, silently kicking herself for not asking that _before_ she drank an entire potion she got from a strange druid in the forest.

“Modified treatment for Mindbane,” Aeon answered, taking the bottle back. “It should help your… ‘brain fog.’ I will give you about a month’s worth in a canteen and a measuring vial, as well as the recipe.”

Hannah took a drink of water from her flask as Aeon walked back to his tent to prepare it. At least this trip hasn’t been completely pointless. If this potion could help her manage her condition, she’d happily take it. Religiously, if need be.

The druid came back, a canteen and a measuring vial in one hand and a scroll case in the other. He handed them both to Hannah and said, “Here you are. You’ll need to take a full vial of this once a day.”

She took both, and was placing the scroll case in her backpack when she had a thought. “How long will I have to do this for?”

Aeon paused for a second. “Truthfully? I do not know.”

Hannah nodded slowly. “OK.” She slung her pack back onto her back, then gave a bow. “Thank you, Master Aeon.”

He bowed back. “Remember, child - those scars on your mind do not only say that you suffered: they say that you **survived**.”

She nodded again, then turned around and began the long walk back to Quaervarr.

She supposed the druid was right.

She’d made it this far. She had survived. She would survive.

Hopefully, with her new treatment, she could get back to living, too.


End file.
